


A Lesson in Serenity

by JSwander



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSwander/pseuds/JSwander
Summary: After returning from a rather uneventful mission, Qui-Gon Jinn decides to take his time with some paperwork.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 207





	A Lesson in Serenity

Qui-Gon Gin's study was a peaceful place. A window on the far side had a view of Coruscant far below, the view largely taken up by the vast expanse of cloudless sky, currently settling to rosy gold as the day wound to a close.

The rest of the room was pleasantly cluttered, a few plants and shelves, the odd curiosity here and there. A broad, solid desk was situated between two handsome bookshelves, where Qui-Gon conducted most of his business.

Beneath his desk, Obi-Wan Kenobi sat curled up between his master's legs, his mouth stuffed full of Qui-Gon's cock.

“Very good. Relax, mind your feelings.” Qui-Gon instructed. His hand braced the back of Obi-Wan's neck, every now and then adjusting his posture. “You will let me know if you need a break.”

Between his legs, Obi-Wan gave his master a baleful glare that clearly read;

_I can handle this._

It wasn't the first time after all. Obi-Wan viciously adored these sessions in meditation. They had only so recently begun. In a few short years, he would be knighted. Soon enough, his master might be taken away from him. The thought made him ache in ways he couldn't describe.

He shifted closer, nuzzling against the base of Qui-Gon's cock.

“Steady.” His master instructed, tugging on his long padawan braid. Obi-Wan breathed out slowly through his nose, urging himself to relax and settle. He shifted his knees a bit on the soft pillow beneath the desk, trying to ignore the painful throb of his leaking erection.

Obi-Wan tried not to think about how good it would feel to grasp it, to give himself even the briefest relief. As if hearing his thoughts, Qui-Gon gave him another firm tug on his braid.

Time languidly slipped and stretched by. A bead of saliva leaked out of the corner of his mouth.

Every now and then, Qui-Gon would reach down to pet his hair, rub the back of his neck and murmur soft words of encouragement. Each time, it made Obi-Wan's inside curl with delicious warmth. It was no secret between them how easily undone he became from his Master's praise.

-

After some time, there was a knock on the door to Qui-Gon's study.

“Come in.” He said, not looking up from his work. Obi-Wan's heart lurched up into his chest. Surely his master didn't mean to-?

“Qui-Gon. Welcome back. I heard the peace talks were a success.” Mace Windu entered, hands clasped behind his back.

“Yes, for the time being, at least.” Qui Gon said with a pleasant smile. “You'll excuse me for not standing. That old injury from the reactor-”

“Of course, not at all.”

Qui-Gon's hand was pressed to the back of Obi-Wan's head, holding him steady. He pushed warm rush of serenity through heir bond, soothing Obi-Wan's frantic nerves. Above him, his master didn't skip a beat, sounding the perfect picture of composure.

“I'm just filling out a brief on the peace talks now. The two planets had practically already come to an agreement before I arrived. You would think it might warrant a bit less paperwork.”

“Such is the way, unfortunately. Do you think that the terms of the treaty will hold ground in the long-term?”

To Obi-Wan's horror, he could hear the sound of Windu sitting down at the chair across from Qui-Gon's desk. Only the solid panel of lacquered wood was between him and one of the most senior members of the Jedi council and him, his mouth wrapped his Master's turgid cock.

The two chatted amiably, Qui-Gon in no apparent rush to send Windu away. Blunt nails massaged circles into the back of Obi-Wan's head. More waves of calm and warmth passed between them. Obi-Wan willed himself to breathe, letting Qui-Gon guide him into a heady, submissive state. His body relaxed. Qui-Gon eased him further down, until he had taken nearly all of him into his mouth, his head pressed against his Master's thighs.

Yes, he was safe here. He trusted with all his being that his Master would not let any harm come to him. He had nothing to fear.

Qui-Gon's cock throbbed heavy in his mouth. Above, his Master was still calmly discussing the possibilities of a poor harvest playing a role in hurrying negotiations along, and the chance of relapse once the rains came.

The salty-taste of pre-cum seeped against his tongue. Qui-Gon was enjoying this immensely. The thought made Obi-Wan shudder, his own cock leaking once again, running down his thighs.

After what felt like an age, Windu excused himself. A few more pleasantries were exchanged, and finally the heavy doors slid shut, sealing off any noise.

Qui-Gon leaned back, petting Obi-Wan's hair, giving his braid a gentle tug.

“Well done, padawan.”

Qui-Gon smiled, feeling through their connection the rush of endorphins flooding Obi-Wan's senses in response to the praise. His padawan moaned, sending a pleasant thrum up to the base of Qui-Gon's thickened cock.

Qui-Gon gently guided Obi-Wan's head back, easing himself out of his padawan's mouth. His thumb wiped away a trail of saliva from the corner of his open mouth, his lips very shiny and red.

“So good for your master.” Obi-Wan made another weak sound at the praise. He bowed his head forward, braced against the inside of Qui-Gon's thigh.

“May... may I-?” His voice was hoarse, sounding thick and sluggish. He shifted forward, letting his hard, throbbing erection brush against his master's leg.

He had behaved, hadn't he? He'd done well. Obi-Wan's nerves were shot, his entire body pounding with want and need, but he'd persevered. He silently begged for permission to hump and rut against him until he could achieve release.

“Come here,” Qui-Gon guided him to his feet. He felt his heart sink low in his chest. No, he must have failed. He would be sent off alone to the fresher to take care of himself. It was the worst sort of punishment.

_I'll take anything, please, don't send me away..._

Instead, Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan by the hips, pulling him forward until he was sitting on his master's lap, held flush against him. Qui-Gon's chair was a large, comfortable leather thing, luxurious for a Jedi's private quarters. It easily took the both of their weight, allowing Obi-Wan's toes to hang just above the floor.

“Master...” Obi-Wan breathed with awe as Qui-Gon undid his trousers, taking his aching erection into his hand. He gasped, grabbing the front of Qui-Gon's tunic, his hips trembled violently as he fought the urge to buck into Qui-Gon's fist.

“I... I made a mess, I'm sorry...”

“Hush, it's alright, padawan.” His thumb brushed against his slit, causing Obi-Wan to see white. Every muscle in his body thrummed taught, it would be so easy to fall apart now, to let himself tumble over into blissful oblivion.

But he couldn't help it, he'd never gotten this far. He wanted more...

“Please, please... Master...” His hips jerked in unsteady, abortive thrusts. Qui-Gon continued to murmur gentle soothing words into his padawan's ear.

He pulled Obi-Wan close against him, urging him to lean forward. His padawan complied, pressing gratefully to the touch. Qui-Gon eased out the polished metal plug that Obi-Wan had worn diligently throughout the exercise. In its place, he lowered Obi-Wan down onto his thick cock.

It was wider than the plug, longer too. He moved slowly, taking all the care in the world not to hurt his padawan as he moved, slowly sinking down to take him all the way until he was resting on his master's lap, straddling his thighs.

Obi-Wan's heart pounded like a frantic animal, his breathing unsteady. A broad hand rubbed his back.

“It's alright, take your time.”

“What if-”

“We won't be disturbed again.” Qui-Gon murmured into Obi-Wan's ear, his hand gripped the back of his neck. It had an almost involuntary Pavlovian response, Obi-Wan went limp again, his body adjusting more thoroughly to the impressive, solid girth inside of him.

The study was peaceful and quiet.

One of Qui-Gon's broad arms wrapped around Obi-Wan's lithe frame, pinning him to his chest. The other grasped his thigh. With all the care in the world, he began to raise and lower Obi-Wan onto his cock, fucking him tenderly and thoroughly.

Obi-Wan couldn't move, or think. He buried his face into his Master's neck, letting himself drown in the scent of him. There was nothing he could so but let himself be taken cared for.

Soft, delicious sounds were pulled from his lips as his Master moved at a leisurely pace, as though they had all the time in the world. With each thrust, his cock brushed beautifully against every sensitive spot inside of him, reducing him to a mindless, writhing mess.

Outside, the rosy hues of the evening were beginning to deepen. Obi-Wan was going to be late for his evening chores, though they hadn't technically logged in their return just yet. Wildly, Obi-Wan wondered if Qui-Gon had this in mind from the start.

His Master continued to bounce Obi-Wan on his cock in long, lazy strokes.

Obi-Wan couldn't remember when they started, how long now he had needed release. His arms were locked firmly against his body. Part of him wanted so badly to tend to his red, aching cock, the rest of him madly desperate to come from his Master's ministrations alone. But he was going so _slow._

Obi-Wan sobbed dryly against his master's neck, pleading incoherently.

“Master you feelings, padawan.” He replied calmly, as though they were doing no more than routine exercises in lightsaber training. If Obi-Wan couldn't feel how rock-hard and hot Qui-Gon was, thrusting in and out of his tight hole, he could have sworn he was entirely unaffected by their circumstances.

Starving for release, Obi-Wan _clenched_ as Qui-Gon thrust in, causing a delicious change in friction. This time, both men gasped. Obi-Wan felt a sort of vicious satisfaction to crack his master's flawless resolve.

“Padawan -” Qui-Gon said warning, the third or fourth thrust finally had him sounding jagged.

“Please Master...” He begged. “I can take it, I can be good, please-”

His world turned, Qui-Gon effortlessly lifting him onto the wide desk in one swift motion, sheathed firmly inside him the entire time. Obi-Wan gasped, his leg hooked over his Master's shoulder. Qui-Gon touched his lips to Obi-Wan's inner thigh. He nearly came then and there.

Obi-Wan didn't last much longer. The new position combined with the renewed pace had him rapidly undone. At long last, he crested, letting waves of blinding pleasure overtake him as he spilled hot over his own chest.

“Don't stop, master please I can take it, I can, please-!” He babbled incoherently. He was desperate to bring his Master pleasure, to be filled, to be marked. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes as Qui-Gon's relentless pace continued, his gaze low and intensely focused.

Their bond pulsed and bloomed. All at once, Obi-Wan could feel it. His master's heat, his desire. The strong waves of care and devotion to his charge writhing beneath him. A brief window into the emotions he normally kept professionally tucked away.

He was the one who made Qui-Gon feel this way, nobody else. Obi-Wan basked in that sensation. In that moment, he felt so _beautiful._

Artfully balance on the line between serenity and passion, Qui-Gon bowed over his padawan, giving himself over to the will of the living Force.

There was a throb and a rush of heat. Obi-Wan's heart soared as his master came undone, coming hard in long strokes, emptying himself inside of his padwan. Obi-Wan gasped, feeling the intensity of it reverberate through their bond. A second small issue of cum leaked out of his spent cock as his body seized from the delicious echoing sensation.

The two lay there together for a moment, Qui-Gon's body pleasantly heavy and warm against Obi-Wan. One hand was in his hair, fingers tangled around his padawan braid. Obi-Wan grasped at the robes on Qui-Gon's back, his legs locked around his waist, dazed with the notion of wanting to keep him inside as long as possible.

The heavy musk of sex lay low about the room.

“Master...”

Qui-Gon didn't speak, but pulled himself back. His nose brushed against Obi-Wan's cheek, their lips brushing past one another for the briefest moment, so fleeting Obi-Wan had to wonder if he imagined it. Strong hands massaged Obi-Wan's trembling thighs, soothing him and easing himself free.

“Don't move.” Obi-Wan knew what to do. Qui-Gon always ended their sessions this way. He liked Obi-Wan to lie still, his arms at his side or above his head while he tended to his pupil. There was a drawer at the bottom of his desk that held a stash of supplies for such a purpose. A warm, damp rag cleaned his chest and his legs, before seeing to the insides of his thighs.

“You did very well today, padawan mine.” Obi-Wan preened at the warm praise.

“Thank you, master.” He said breathlessly, his body still thrumming from the intensity of their orgasm.

Qui-Gon wrapped him up in a clean robe, leading him to the fresher that spanned Qui-Gon's study and their main quarters in the Jedi temple.

“I'll tell Master Plo that you fell ill on our way back and excuse you from your lessons tomorrow.” Qui-Gon began to fill the large tub, directing Obi-Wan to sit and wait on the low counter. “You may need a day to recover.” He added a bacta solution to the water, along with some other salts and herbs with healing properties.

“I can handle it, Master.” Obi-Wan spoke up at once, gathering his wits about him as much as he could. “I hardly need special treatment in order to – when we...” He stammered, lost for words.

“Suit yourself.” Obi-Wan said kindly, excusing himself from needing to put it in words. “But I want you to soak for at least three quarters of an hour. When you're done, we'll get supper.” He stood, once again a flawless picture of composure. Obi-Wan could sense them falling back into their normal, effortless routine.

The tub was inviting, full of steamy, fragrant water. Qui-Gon turned to leave. In a show of daring, Obi-Wan grasped his wrist.

“Would you join me, Master?”

There was a beat, Obi-Wan didn't dare to breathe. Qui-Gon smiled serenely.

“Yes, I suppose I can.”


End file.
